


The Happy Coffee Bean

by AnotherGallavichLove



Series: The Universe(s) Where Robbe & Jens are Endgame [5]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Barista!Jens, Cheek Kisses, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21585529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGallavichLove/pseuds/AnotherGallavichLove
Summary: It seems everybody has a crush on the new barista, but Robbe is the only one whose coffee cup always has a heart drawn on it.(Aka: the fluffy coffee shop AU we all deserve.)
Relationships: Robbe IJzermans/Jens Stoffels
Series: The Universe(s) Where Robbe & Jens are Endgame [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552297
Comments: 10
Kudos: 163





	The Happy Coffee Bean

**Author's Note:**

> Just making it clear - this is a complete AU, this does not take place in the same universe as the four previous stories.

Of course Robbe had noticed him. It was difficult not to. 

But with his deep, brown eyes, tall frame and sharp jawline - he was hardly the only one. Everybody noticed the hot barista; he was the whole reason as to why the mediocre coffee shop had become so popular, when a month ago, it always used to be empty. A part of Robbe was annoyed, because he had gone into The Happy Coffee Bean almost every single day for the past year, and enjoyed the silence; now that was gone. Zoë had told him to just go find another coffee shop, but he had waved off that idea rather quickly, without bothering to think of why. 

“Robbe.” 

The sound of his name caused him to look up, preparing himself to take the two steps over to the counter, but instead the barista came out from behind it, placing Robbe’s cup in front of him. His name was Jens; he noticed now. The baristas names were sown onto their aprons, but for the first few weeks, he hadn’t yet had one. 

“Thanks,” Robbe looked up at him with a nod, their eyes meeting. Of course, since Robbe came in here every single day, and Jens seemed to work five days out of the week, if not six, they recognised each other by now. But they had never spoken beyond Robbe’s order, or the total, or the one time, the other day when Jens had looked outside and commented on the massive amount of snow falling. Robbe hadn’t really known what to say to that, so he had just agreed, the two sharing a friendly smile. 

Now, as Robbe wrapped his hand around the tall cardboard mug, feeling the heat seep into his palm, Jens parted his lips, as if he was about to say something more, but the other Barista whistled at him - the kind of sound you would make to get a dog’s attention from across a field. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jens waved her off, but walked back to make the next order. Robbe chuckled silently, looking down at the homework in front of him, before his eyes drifted to his name on the mug. He had never met anyone before who turned their O’s into hearts, but apparently this guy did, because every since the first time he had ordered from him, there was a cute heart, right in between the R, and the B. 

———

It was late on a Thursday night, when Robbe and Zoë were hurrying across the city, hoping that they would be able to make it to the shop to get their last fix of caffeine before they would close up for the night. Their bikes tore through the thin layer of snow on the street as they arrived, jumping off of their bikes, leaving them laying on the ground as they ran up to the door, a chorus of ‘No, no, no!’ and ‘Please, please!’ left their mouths, the barista shaking her head apologetically as she let go of the sign she had just turned. Zoë sighed, dropping her forehead onto the glass, causing Robbe to mirror her action, sighing. 

“Come on, we have coffee at home,” Robbe tried then, wrapping a soft hand around her bicep, and nodding towards their bikes. Before he could drag her away, though, a second person showed up, next to the barista. Jens placed a hand on her shoulder, and said something that couldn’t be heard through the door. She shrugged, and he opened the door. 

“I’ll make your coffees, come on.” 

“Thank you, thank you,” Zoë sighed, walking into the shop. Jens sighed in amusement, as Robbe placed his palms together, moving his hands up and down in a thankful motion. 

“The usual?” Jens asked, when he was behind the counter, the other two leaning over the other side. The question was aimed at both of them, Zoë replying verbally, while Robbe just nodded. As he focused on getting their order ready, Jens didn’t say anything else, and Zoë brought her phone out of her pocket - a part of Robbe wished that she would talk to him - because as Jens moved around, it was difficult not to look at him. He turned around to get something off of a shelf, and the muscles in his back were noticeable through his t-shirt. Robbe brought his phone out, too, and leaned his palm against the bottom half of his face, pretending to pay attention to the screen - while really, he was sneaking glances at the barista. His dark eyebrows were drawn close together in concentration, a lock of his dark hair falling onto his forehead. 

Sometimes, Robbe would question whether Jens liked him - even as a friend - but then he remembered that service workers were literally paid to be nice to you, not to mention that he clearly was not the only one with a small, tiny crush on this particular one. He shouldn’t get to ahead of himself - even if Jens did like him as a friend - a customer assuming anything, or trying to get close was most likely seen as annoying, and that was the last thing that Robbe wanted. 

A few minutes later, their coffees were placed in front of them, and Robbe paid for Zoë’s - despite her objections - then they walked back outside into the cold, hearing the door lock behind them. 

“Thank god,” Zoë sighed, at the first sip, as they picked their bicycles up, and leaned against them. 

“Hey - “ Robbe took the cup away from her, apologising through a mumble when she asked what he was doing; he held them both in front of himself, looking at their names. Zoe. No dots, but it was spelt normally - Z. O. E. And then, he looked at his own. Robbe. R. Heart. B. B. E. 

“Are you kidding me? The cute barista has a crush on you? That’s so adorable,” Zoë said, looking over his shoulder now. Robbe tried his best to fight his smile, rolling his eyes as he handed her mug back to her. “Does he always do that?” 

“Yeah. I thought he did it to everyone.” 

“That’s so cute, you’re so clueless.” 

“Whatever,” Robbe sighed, but lost the fight against his own smile muscles as they begun walking, leading their bicycles along. 

————

Robbe didn’t go back to the coffee shop before Monday afternoon - not by his own choice; it had been snowing so badly that the reporters on television practically begged people to stay inside as much as possible. So of course Zoë and Milan had gone into complete parent mode, scolding both Robbe and Senne whenever they thought about going outside for something that was not completely necessary. 

Robbe didn’t even have time to walk to the last person in line and stand behind them before he heard Jens’ calling his name. When he walked over to where he was leaning over the counter, he waved at him to come just a little bit closer, to that the other people waiting would hear him. 

“Skip the line, I’ll make your order right now. It’s on the house, just sit down.” 

“Thanks,” Robbe nodded once, backing away from the counter. It was a lame response, but he wasn’t sure what else to say. They kept the eye contact for a few seconds longer than necessary, Jens’ giving him a smile - one carrying something other than just kindness and warmth - confidence, perhaps. Either way, it widened Robbe’s smile, and he had to fight to hide it as he turned around to take place at a surprisingly empty table in the corner. 

It took a while longer than usual, seeing as the shop was crammed to its capacity, but he still got his coffee a lot faster than if he had been forced to stand in line. Jens walked over to him and placed the cup on the table; when Robbe looked up, he smiled, and if he hadn’t imagined it - he winked, too. Robbe couldn’t do much beyond smile back drink the coffee, as Jens went back to work, but as much as he tried to focus on the school work in front of him, he was struggling. 

Had Jens always been like this? This obvious? The more that Robbe thought back over the past few weeks, he realised that he had brushed off a lot of things as him just being a friendly guy, trying to get tips - there was nothing wrong with that; he was a good-looking guy. The last thing that Robbe had wanted to do was to assume anything - but there were so many signs now, weren’t there? Carefully, he turned his head to look at him - he was busy, of course, and wasn’t looking back - but the view still dried Robbe’s throat, and he had to drink more of the coffee to get back to normal. 

Jens looked so good - the sleeves of the grey sweatshirt he was wearing was pushed up to his elbows; the maroon apron was slightly creased, a soft splatter of flour across the front. His dark hair hung over his forehead, eyebrows pulled together in concentration. Eventually, Robbe came back down to earth, and was able to look away, but he thoughts still dragged. 

It had been decently late in the afternoon when Robbe had arrived at the shop to begin with, so by the time that he had finished his large cup of coffee, the daylight had disappeared outside of the large windows, and the large crowd of people had disappeared, leaving the staff, Robbe, and two or three extra people, still finishing up their own drinks. 

It took Robbe a while to build up the courage - so long, in fact, that by the time he stood up, Jens was finished cleaning the coffee machines, and nearly done wiping down the counter. Robbe’s bag felt heavy on his shoulder, his nails digging into the strap as he made his way through the tables; his bag bumped a chair slightly, which caused Jens to look up, and break out in a warm smile. 

“Hey - are you ordering something else? Because I just turned all the machines off.” 

“No, no,” Robbe shook his head, a slight smile on his face, as his eyes shifter down to the ground, a grunt of amusement leaving his throat. When he looked back up, Jens had let go of the rag he had been using to wipe the counter, and instead he had crossed his arms, leaning forwards on his forearms, looking at Robbe. The smile didn’t reveal his teeth, but it was still there; obvious, warm. “I just… you always drew these hearts… on my cup,” Robbe started, doing his best to ignore how lame and clumsy he sounded as he held up his empty cup to show Jens - as if he wouldn't know what he was talking about. “I just assumed you did it to everyone, but Zoë didn’t get one - so I was just…”

“Asking me what it means?” Jens questioned, his eyebrows disappearing beneath the soft locks of hair hanging over his forehead. 

“Yeah…” Robbe chuckled weakly. 

“It means I’m flirting with you.” Jens said the words, as if he thought Robbe was stupid. Not in a mean, or aggressive way - but in a ‘Hello? Do I need to physically knock on your skull? Is anybody home?’ 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought it might mean…” Robbe said lamely. 

“Yeah, that’s what it means,” Jens confirmed again, going back to wiping the counter as Robbe took a step back. “If you want me to stop, though, let me know - “

“No, no,” Robbe interrupted, possibly a bit too enthusiastically, which brought Jens eyes to his again. “No - you’re good. I just didn't want to assume anything,” he explained, finally. 

“That’s good, then,” Jens nodded, Robbe continuing to walk backwards towards the door. “I’ll continue flirting with you.” 

“Yeah,” Robbe nodded, before finally forcing himself to turn around, walking out into the cold. 

————

During the next week, Robbe didn’t speak much to Jens. Anytime he came into the shop, it was already crowded, and he always had a reason as to why he needed to leave before the crowd thinned out - sadly. However, since their conversation, in which Robbe had awkwardly forced Jens to confirm that he was, indeed, flirting with him - the hearts hadn’t been the only thing on Robbe’s mug. 

Every time that he came in, their eyes met, Jens gave him a nod, and Robbe just had to sit down to wait for his order. When it came, it had his name, with a heart, and a message. The first time, it had simply been: ‘ _You look good today_ ’ then, the next day, it had been ‘ _You look like you’ve had a bad day. It’s on the house. x._ ’ Jens had been right - Robbe had had a bad day, but after reading that scribbled message, he hadn’t been able to remember why. 

It was on Friday, that the cup came with enough pen on it that it wasn’t even subtle anymore:’ _I’m doing all the flirting, and as much as I like to see you get all embarressed, I’d like to talk to you more. Text me._ ’ Below was a phone number, and Robbe smiled until his cheeks ached, tilting his head forwards to hide it, despite the fact that nobody was looking at him. 

That day, he had promised Yasmina that he would meet up with her to work on a group project, so he hadn’t been able to stay to talk to Jens as he would have liked to. It didn’t matter, though, because later, after dinner - which consisted of something way too healthy that Zoë had found on Pinterest - he threw himself back onto his bed, phone in one hand, empty coffee cup in the other. 

Slowly, to make sure that he got it right, he typed in the number, and saved it as Jens - with a coffee emoji at the end. He considered a heart, too - as an inside joke - but he decided not to do that. Then he sighed, sitting back up with a groan. He tried to type out several messages - they all sounded too lame, and stupid. How was he supposed to do this? Finally, he sighed, and just sent his name - hoping that Jens wouldn’t pick up on the fact that Robbe was once again leaving him to do the heavy lifting in this… Whatever this was. 

Robbe shouldn’t have cared enough to know how many minutes past before his phone buzzed with a reply - but he did. It was three and a half minutes; nearly to the second. 

**Jens:** _and people told me that leaving my number on the cup was too cliché._

Robbe snorted silently in amusement, before typing back. 

**Robbe:** _It was cliché_

 **Jens:** _But it worked._

**Robbe:** _It did._  
 **Robbe:** _Want to get coffee tomorrow? Somewhere you don’t have to make it?_

 **Jens:** _Of course_

Robbe thought the conversation was over, then, but right as he was placing the phone aside, another message came through. A heart. Before he could think better of it, he sent one back. 

———

Robbe arrived at the coffee shop later the next day - Jens wouldn’t be off work until quite a bit later, but Robbe still had nearly two hundred pages left of a novel he had to read for school - which also gave him an excuse to be in Jens’ presence a bit earlier, and by the look on his face when he saw Robbe enter, Jens didn’t mind that too much. His cup didn’t have a message on it when a stressed Jens placed it down in front of him, but it did have two smaller, messily drawn hearts next to the one in the middle of his name. He looked at them, before using the cup to hide his smile. 

A lot can change in an hour. It had already been snowing when Robbe had arrived, but by the time that the crowd started to thin out, it had picked up - a lot. The darkness had already fallen by then, so Robbe couldn’t tell perfectly how much it was snowing, but by the sounds of the wind tearing around the corners of the building, and the slight shake that could be felt, it was a lot. 

“You and Jens might have to rethink your date, I think they’re back to warning people not to go outside,” another barista - a woman in her thirties or so - warned Robbe in a friendly tone, as she went to turn the sign to close up. Jens had disappeared to the back, so he couldn’t look to him for an opinion - all he did was shrug, giving her a smile, just wide enough to be polite. He didn’t want to ‘rethink’ their date. He wanted to go out with him. Tonight. But as he went onto his phone to check the weather, he did see a warning, just as she had said. He sighed, and tucked the phone into his pocket before he stood up, leaving his things by the table as he made his way over to the counter, just as Jens walked out from the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Jens said, a smile on his face - the kind that truly reached his eyes. It was the first time they had actually spoken to each other all day. 

“Hey,” Robbe said back, before scratching his temple, looking down to the floor for a second. “Not sure we can go anywhere,” he gestured to the window next to them. “They’re warning people to stay inside.” 

Jens gave him a nod, pushing his bottom lip out, as if in thought. 

“I’m gonna be the last one to lock up today anyway - we could do our date here?” Again, he leaned forwards on his forearms, folded in front of him; he raised his eyebrows in question, and Robbe had to smile at him, couldn’t keep it from happening. Perhaps it was him calling it a date - not that there had been any doubt - but he liked the sound. 

“Yeah,” Robbe nodded. “Yeah, that’s good.” Jens repeated his words under his breath, and then he disappeared back out into the kitchen, most likely to help clean up so that the other two baristas could go home earlier, leaving him and Robbe alone. He jumped up onto one of the barstools, and occupied himself with his phone, until he heard voices saying goodbye to each other, and a backdoor closing, and being locked. Then Jens came back out, and Robbe put his phone away. 

“What can I get you?” Jens asked, leaning his weight onto his arms, palms onto the counter, nearly looking down at Robbe. 

“The usual?” 

“Black coffee? No,” Jens shook his head. “No, come on - let’s be more adventurous,” he smacked the counter, and the movement caused a lock of his hair to fall forwards. 

“Alright,” Robbe smiled. “Well, damn, I don’t know - surprise me, then,” he shrugged, the smile glued to his face in a way that caused his cheeks to ache. 

Jens looked at him; Robbe didn’t know him well enough to know what he was thinking, not well enough to read what the look in his eye meant - but he liked it. 

“Alright,” he agreed with a single, over exaggerated nod, starting to sort through the different bottles and jars on the counter behind him. Perhaps it was because he had turned around, or because they were officially on a date; either way, Robbe found the courage. 

“Actually… I don’t know anything about any of this… can you teach me?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jens agreed, without turning around, waving his hand, telling Robbe to come over to him. “Alright, we’re making Nutella lattes,” he explained, getting the milk out and filling some into a metal canister; they both stood, facing the large machine, then, and he leaned closer to Robbe, lowering his voice, into something that was nearly a whisper, but not quite. “They’re not actually on the menu, but it’s the best thing ever.” Robbe looked up at him, their eyes meeting. Jens had held the metal canister a few inches above the counter, but as neither of them looked away, he dropped his hand, the metal making a quiet but sudden sound as it collided with the marble below. Robbe swallowed, and Jens smiled, leaning forwards, placing a soft, warm kiss to his left cheek. 

Robbe could feel his entire face turning a flushed colour, his smile growing, air escaping in between his teeth, the sound a result of amusement, and embarrassment. He dipped his head, as Jens went back to explaining how you steamed milk.

After he had explained the technique, he handed the milk over to Robbe, and they switched places. He had heard the sound of somebody steaming milk a million times, but something about actually holding the canister when it happened caused him to jump back, his shoulder crashing into Jens’ chest. They both laughed, Jens assuring him that it was okay. 

“Here, I’ll help,” he said, then, and Robbe could feel warmth spreading over his back, a larger hand appearing around his own, helping him to hold the canister still. 

“You’re not subtle,” Robbe muttered. 

“I was never subtle, you’re just slow.” Robbe tried to feign offence, but it was overridden by a chuckle, Jens joining in. When they quieted down, he told him to focus, and eventually, they ended up with foamed milk, which, on top of Nutella lattes - which was really just hot chocolate with a shot or two of espresso - ended up being one of the best things that Robbe had ever tasted. 

They sat on the barstools, stomachs fluttering, knees bumping. They talked about everything, and about nothing - movies, music - a text from Milan that asked if Robbe was okay led them into the topic of friends. They didn’t know each other well enough to talk about anything heavy - but they talked about a lot. A part of Robbe wondered - even though they were clearly interested in more, as well - if he had found his best friend. 

They not only emptied their mugs, but they sat there long enough for the few drops at the bottom to dry out. And it felt as if no time had passed at all since they had sat down. 

“I think I have to get home,” Jens finally sighed, looking down at his phone at the multiple texts received in the past ten minutes alone. The tone in his voice was that of regret; he didn’t want to go - Robbe could tell. And it caused that warm feeling to bloom in his chest, once again. 

“You need help cleaning up?” Robbe asked, as Jens got up and took their empty mugs, placing them in the sink. 

“You don’t have to,” he shook his head, but Robbe rolled his eyes, getting off of his own stool, walking around, leaning against the counter. 

“What if I want to?” He asked, tilting his head somewhat. Jens had his back turned, but when he turned around, he had a pout on his lips, nodding once, walking closer. 

“Why would you want to help me? Cleaning up is the worst part of anything,” he raised his brows, and Robbe grunted, shaking his head at him feigning cluelessness. 

“That’s true,” Robbe nodded. 

“It’s not like it’s because you want to spend more time with me.” 

“No, no, not at all,” Robbe shook his head. “I hate you - worst person I’ve ever met,” he continued. Jens laughed, and Robbe’s serious expression broke into a smile, his own chuckles melting together with Jens’ as he got closer, placing his hands on the counter, caging Robbe in. He wasn’t extremely tall, but he was taller than Robbe - tall enough that he had to tilt his head back to look up at him when he was this close. 

“You hate me,” Jens muttered, voice low, now. Robbe swallowed, nodding once, eyebrows furrowed for a second, as if he was mimicking a very serious lawyer in a movie from the fifties. “That means you don’t want to kiss me, I suppose.” Robbe’s face softened, throat drying as he thought of the previous kiss; Jens’ lips had only touched his cheek. It had felt warm, good. The thought of having those lips on his own? 

“Not at all,” Robbe whispered. But every single part of the act had dropped beyond his words. His lips were parted, eyes flickering in between dark brown eyes and plump lips. Jens nodded. 

“That’s too bad,” Jens pouted, frowning; then he took his hands off of the counter and begun to turn around. 

“Hey - “ Robbe acted quickly, reaching out to catch the front of his apron right at the last second, tugging Jens back towards him, their lips crashing together, muffled laughter in between them. Robbe felt both of Jens’ arms around his neck, tugging him closer; his own hands wandered from his back, to his neck, fingers sorting through his hair, before finally settling on the strap around his neck, holding the apron up. He tugged at it, deepening the kiss, inhaling the scent of coffee, cinnamon, and something else that had to be just Jens. 

“Still hate me?” Jens asked when the kiss - finally ended - their foreheads leaning together. Robbe breathed out a sign of amusement. 

“No,” he answered, placing another kiss to his lips. “I don’t hate you.”

“Good. ‘Cause I like you.” 


End file.
